i'M Still Here
by zsa2127
Summary: I rolled up my other sleeve and looked at the scars from all the times that I had cut myself over the last month. All 14 of them formed a jagged F. I’m sorry, Freddie. I thought, as the doorknob rattled and Carly’s voice come from the other side...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. Even though it would be absolutely amazing if I did. **

**Another, top of the head story. Let me know how you like it!**

"I didn't know, I swear." Carly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, trying to hide her puffy, red eyes from everyone. She stood by my hospital bed and gazed down at my lifeless body. Freddie wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair as she buried her head in his neck.

"Shhh..." He whispered comfortingly. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should've seen this coming. I knew it too...I just let myself forget." Her voice came in shudders, muffled by Freddie's strong, broad shoulder.

"Don't worry, Carly." I wanted to say. I couldn't stand seeing my best friend all crumpled and sad. "I'm not dead yet."

EARLIER THAT NIGHT

I stormed into the Shay's bathroom, overwhelmed with anger and disgust.

My dad had come home drunk, as usual, and started beating my mom right there in the living room. I sat on my bed, trying to block out the sounds of my parents by wrapping a pillow around my head. I sang to myself quietly, hoping that the tune of "Dark Blue" by Jack's Mannequin would help me forget what was happening in the other room. I shut my eyes tight, and turned up the volume in my voice, squeezing the pillow harder around my ears.

"Shut the fuck up, Samantha Puckett." I heard my door bang against the wall and my eyes popped open, revealing the shape of a tall, heavy-set man in my doorway. "Shut up or I'll make you shut up."

He swung at my head, but I blocked his fist with the pillow, which didn't do much since half the feathers had already fallen out. I looked up at his face and saw that his eyes were blood shot and his face a sickly yellow color. His breath smelled like straight vodka, a scent which I knew all too well. Drool dangled from his mouth, and his teeth were crooked and coffee stained. Times when he used to come home bragging about promotions at work flashed in my mind, and I lunged for the door.

Stepping over half broken beer bottles, I saw my mother curled up in the couch, trying to muster up the courage to go and sober up her husband. My head ached from where he had punched me, and I rushed out our apartment door, hitting a dead run as I heard the swear words yelled after me getting quieter and quieter.

Carly's apartment was where I always went when this sort of thing happened.

"Carly!" I said, clutching my throbbing head. "Let me in...please."

She came to the door, and sighed, like I had just interrupted something big.

"You can't do this, Sam. Just because your parents fight doesn't mean you can come here." She tilted her head sideways and stared at me.

I stepped into her living room and saw Jake sitting on the couch. I turned and looked at Carly, who's hair was messed up and her lips swollen from kissing to hard.

"I just needed to get away from there...you kno..." I started.

"No, Sam. I don't want to come between you and your parents. I know you guys don't have the perfect relationship but that doesn't mean you can mess my night because of one little fight."

One little fight? I stumbled back, stunned. Carly never acted this way when I came over because of my parents. She knew what went on at my house. I ran out of the living room and into the bathroom.

My eyes welled up with angry tears as I pulled my dads pocket knife out of my jeans and rolled up my sleeve. The cutting had been going on for a while now, and I gazed down at my arm where the band-aid was still there from yesterday morning. There was something about the pain that made everything feel better, and it was the only way I could calm myself down. I ripped off the band-aid and made the gash deeper. _This one's for you, Carly Shay. You and your new boyfriend, the oh-so-precious Jake Randall. _I felt the blood run down my wrist and I started to make another slit. _Here's to you, dad, for making my life a fucking mess. _I slid my sleeve up more, and made the clean cut once again. _Let's not forget mom. The woman who said everything would be alright. Look how great that plan turned out. _I let out a slow breath and watched the red drip onto Carly's stark white linoleum. I rolled up my other sleeve and looked at the scars from all the times that I had cut myself over the last month. All fourteen of them formed a jagged F. _I'm sorry, Freddie._ I thought, as the doorknob rattled and Carly's voice come from the other side.

"Sam open up..."

That was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.

--

CARLY'S POV

"Sam open up...I'm sorry." I said, reaching in my hair for a bobby pin. I thought of the last time I had caught her in the girl's bathroom at school, her eyes were wet and her sleeve soaked with blood. I led her to the school nurse as I noticed the end of a pocket knife sticking out of her pocket. I picked the lock quickly, and braced myself for an angry Sam as I slowly opened the door.

"Sam? Are you ok...?" I looked down and sucked in air. Sam was lying on the floor, a gun-shots amount of blood surrounding her side. I bent down and stared at her left arm, which was cut wide open in at least four places and gushing blood. I dialed 911 as fast as I could, checking her pulse and finding out that she was barley breathing.

"I need an ambulance. Yes...I think my best friend might be dead."


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so, I know that when your in a coma you can't really see or anything, but since this story is mostly fiction, I'm gonna make it so you can see when your in a coma! Here's just a heads up to let you know how this story works: it's mostly written in Sam's thoughts. There will be alternating POVs between other characters at some point. Thanks for the reviews, guys. Chapter two is up!**

A special kind of a coma. I listened as the doctor explained what was wrong with me to Carly and Freddie. My parents weren't there, and through my half opened eyes I could see Spencer in the corner of the room twiddling his thumbs. The doctor was on the other side of my bed, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't move my head to see him. Carly stood on my left, crying softly, and Freddie was next to her staring coldly at the floor.

"Do you know how long she'll be like this?" Freddie's voice came hard and blank.

"It's not that easy to predict, son. I'd say three months, at the latest." The doctor, who I now knew as Dr. Kinsman, replied. His tone was emotionless, like he'd seen thousands of people die and I was just another freshly dug grave.

I tried. I tried to reach out and touch them, tell them everything was ok, but I couldn't. I couldn't stand not being able to move. Not being able to say things, having to eat through a freaking TUBE. I watched them leave, flicking the light switch next to the doorway as they all flied out one by one. My eyes traveled to the glass window next to the door, and I caught a glimpse of a woman with blonde hair walking down the hall way slowly, her head falling into her hands as she disappeared into the dark.

--

I opened my eyes as far as they could go, and found myself staring at Freddie's back. He was looking out my window, his hands clasped behind his back and his head drooping slightly. He wore an orange striped polo and jeans, his black boots hugging his feet. He turned around and grabbed the chair that stood against the wall, and dragged it up to the side of my bed and sat down.

_Freddie, why are you here? _

He looked at me, staring blankly into my eyes, examining my facial expression. I examined his, noting every single crease he had in his forehead and remembering to make fun of him about it later.

_C'mon, you don't really care about me. I've seen the way you look at Carly. And the way you look at me..._

Freddie pulled back my blanket and lifted my right arm out of the warm covers. My mind winced as he carefully touched the bandages they had used to stop the bleeding.

"You know, some say that people in a coma can hear you if you talk to them. It also helps recovery if you sing to them." Dr. Kinsman appeared behind Freddie and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Really?"

"Just a myth. But it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot." He patted Freddie's arm, checked something that I was hooked up too and left the room.

A few minutes passed, and Freddie just sat there looking at my arm.

"Sam? Can you hear me?" He reached up and brushed my bangs out of my eyes.

_Yeah...you can't hear me, though. _

"Sam, what happened?"

_Does this really concern you?_

"I thought you were stronger than this. I thought you could handle yourself."

_We all think things, Fredd-o. I thought you were just a dork with funny shoes. I was wrong. _

"You didn't really have to handle it this way."

_I know. It's just easier this way. _

He cradled my hand in his, and started humming a familiar tune.

"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you...tell you I set you apart..."

The Scientist, by Coldplay. That was the song he had heard me blasting when he walked up into the iCarly studio and found me crying. That was the day when I figured out he loved Carly. The day that I started to insult him.

"Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy...no one ever said it would be this hard..." He lifted my other arm out of the blankets.

_Don't, Freddie. Don't look at it..._

"I'm going back to the..." His voice faded as his gaze studied my forearm. His finger traced the shape of the F I had marked there long ago.

"Sam?"

_No, don't. _

"What's this?"

_You wouldn't understand if I told you. Please..._

"Sam just tell me what happened..." His face was pained, and I could tell that he was trying really hard to understand what he'd just found.

_You happened. _

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Visiting hours are over." The nurse appeared in the doorway, holding a clipboard and looking sad.

Freddie let go of my arm and let it fall back onto the bed. Not bothering to wipe away the tears that had fallen onto my shoulder, he got up and left the room, letting the door slam behind him.

Freddie's POV

I walked out into the hallway, avoiding eye contact with anyone who happened to look at me. F. I knew what the F stood for. I knew what the F stood for because anytime I had said the word "love" to Carly, Sam would disappear into the nearest bathroom or closet. And she would always come out searching for a garbage can to throw a band-aid wrapper in. I knew what the F stood for because every time I was with her, her eyes would glow with some sort of unreadable happiness. That F stood for Freddie, and I knew exactly why. I grabbed my bike off the rack outside of the hospital, jamming my ipod head phones in my ears.

_I know one day, all our scars will disappear, like the stars at dawn  
and all of our pain, will fade away when morning comes  
and on that day when we look backwards we will see, that everything is changed  
and all of our trials, will be as milestones on the way_

and as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone's broken heart  
and there's no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends

on that day all of the scales will swing to set all the wrongs to right  
all of our tears, and all of our fears will take to flight  
but until then all of our scars will still remain, but we've learned that if we'll  
open the wounds and share them then soon they start to heal

as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone's broken heart  
and there's no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends

we must see that every scar is a bridge, and as long as we live  
we must open up these wounds  
when some one stands in your shoes and will shed his own blood  
there's no greater love. we must open up our wounds...

So there's chapter two. I didn't really like it, but I had to put it there for the basis of future chapters. Good reviews please! Thanks! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Well hey you guys. I'm sorry+a billion for neglecting this story (and iFind Dry Rain) for a while. I feel really bad about that. BUT the good news is that chapter 3 is up and I hope it makes up for the absolute horribleness of my absence from WordPerfect 10.**

Carly's POV

I tried. I really, really did. But life without Sam just wasn't the same. I mean, I visited her in the hospital every afternoon after school, but it wasn't like I could talk to her and she could answer with some rude remark that would cause me to laugh and roll my eyes while Freddie sat there scowling. School wasn't the same either. Eating lunch with Freddie just made both of us sadder, and we usually ended up sitting there in silence. I couldn't talk to Jake anymore, at least not without thinking about that night. It was just all to hard. Too different. And would take a lot of getting used to.

Freddie's POV

I put on my red striped polo and jeans, running my fingers through my hair as I opened the door to the Shay's apartment.

"Hey." I walked in and stared.

"Hi, Fred-ster." Spencer gave me a weak smile and continued studying the giant sculpture in front of him. It was a plaster cast of Sam's head, blown up about 200 sizes bigger than it actually was. 2008 was faintly scratched in her forehead, and her lips formed a ghastly smile that made my spine shiver.

"She's not dead." I said, forcing my eyes to blink. I couldn't hear to look at the girl who I had basically killed. The girl who I loved, but would probably never know the truth.

"I know." Spencer reached up and smoothed out plaster Sam's nose. It was amazing how he had gotten every little detail right. How he had captured her high cheek bones and big, round eyes perfectly.

I felt my eyes fill with tears, and I walked out of the apartment, back to my own. Collapsing on my bed, the tears ran down my face, salty and warm. I punched everything in sight, kicking over my DiVigalo, which I had spent the last two months working on, trying to get the hard drive up and running again. Sighing, I curled up in the black hammock that strung across my room and fell asleep, letting the sounds of Secondhand Serenade clear my head.

--

"Freddie?" A voice came from the other side of my door. "You there?"

Carly.

"Yeah. Hold on a sec." I got up and washed my face, trying my best to de-puffy-ize my red eyes. "Come on in."

Carly came in, and sat on my desk, picking up a baseball cap and tossing it on my bed.

"Hey."

"Hi...?" I knew she come here for a reason, but I couldn't find it in her expressionless stare.

We sat there for a moment, looking awkwardly at each other until she finally said something.

"iCarly. We can't do that without Sam."

iCarly. I had completely forgotten about that.

"R-right. We should stop. For now, at least." I saw her face cloud up and she tugged her jacket, pulling it tighter against her body.

"Ok then." She got up and headed for the door. I walked up behind her, putting my arms around her middle and she hugged me back, sniffling into my shirt.

"I'm such a jerk,"

"We all are." I held her close, squeezing my eyes tightly, not letting the tears fall.

Sam's POV 

"No."

"I opened my eyes slightly.

"No, Lily."

Lily was my mom's name. I tried to turn my head from where the voices were coming from, but nothing moved. Then a lady with curly blonde hair and pale skin appeared in the corner of my eye, standing by my bed.

"Steve, we have to." She sounded sad. I smiled. Finally, for once in her life, not everything was perfect.

"Look what you did to her already. Look what she's become because of you!" My stepdad's voice made the room thunder, and I felt his hand grip the metal bed post.

"Me? Steven look at yourself! You're the one always coming home half naked and bone soaked drunk! I had nothing to do with this!"

"Don't you talk to me like that, woman! Fuck you to hell." Steve spat, and I could smell the alcohol in his breath.

Mom shivered. Her body suddenly became weak and fragile-looking, and she collapsed onto my bed, sobbing.

"Look at your damn daughter, fool! Look at her. Damn her...she should die right now." He started pulling on my machines, kicking the bed fiercely.

"Go away." Mom trembled. "Please."

Steve obliged, spitting on my face and letting a slur of swear words pour out of his mouth as he slammed the door behind him.

Mom sat there for a second, trying to calm herself down. Then she got up, wiped here eyes and left, without as little as a goodbye. The nurse came in, adjusted my machines, wiped my face and smoothed out my sheets.

I made up a rhyme of cuss words to sing to my "parents" later.

That was before I overheard the doctors telling each other that there was a "Lily Puckett" in intensive care, and that a man named Steven had pushed her off a bus.

**So...what'd ya think? Please review (nicely if possible) and I'll telepathically send you a giant lollipop. Also, check out my profile and vote on the poll! Thanks so much!! **


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